As we go Forward
by drunkenshowers
Summary: A post-war oneshot. George contemplates his life after Fred's passing. Some mild George/Hermione, don't like it, don't read it :


**Yes, I do have writer's block. Just a little one-shot I decided to try out, I'm still continuing with my other stories :) Hope yo uenjoy, please review!**

George Weasley shivered. The first snow of the winter was falling on him, wind biting at his face. A snowflake fell on the tip of his nose, and he shook his head impatiently, trying to concentrate. The jumper he had on was old and tight, uncomfortable but worn anyway. George picked at a thread in the sleeve, thinking of what to say. He faced the stone and read the words he had read hundreds of times before.

"Here lies Fred Weasley, beloved son, twin and brother. Died, 20, fighting for the future. RIP."

"Sodding war, eh?" George smiled, and sat down on the frosted grass, not bothered by the cold seeping into his jeans. "And fighting for the future, I think not. Fighting for the next ten minutes until you got to go find Ron and congratulate on getting with Hermione. Shame you never heard about that actually. But to be honest, everyone knew it was gonna happen. Bar me. I had my money on Harry." He smirked, and pulled out some grass, fiddling with a piece absent mindedly.

"He's got Ginny now though. Well, she always gets her man. Just like Fleur. Pregnant now, can't believe I'll be an uncle, I'm gonna have a little kid running around! She's trying to convince Bill to call it Victoire. Victory in French, seeing as we won the war and all."

He pulled at the lace on his shoe, winding it round and round his fingers.

"But I'm kind of looking forward to it. I hope that its a girl, if the poor boy's called Victoire he'll get hell for the rest of his life. And of course there's Teddy. Teddy Lupin! He's a metamorphmagus, and so far, he hasn't bitten anyone. Yet. Let's hope that he hasn't got two things that make him a weirdo, or they'll be some other psychopath looking to kill us all."

George frowned. "Swear I saw you the other day. Scared the bejeezus out of me, and I'm beginning to hate Hermione for getting a bloody mirror at the end of the hall. It was just... I came in with Angelina-" He stopped, and smiled a little.

"Probably should of told you me and your ex-girlfriend are getting together. Engaged Freddie-boy." He waggled his hands at the headstone, grinning madly.

"I love her Fred, I really do. She knows me, just, she knows me like you did." He shifted his weight his knees. "But Fred, I don't really get it. What if, Angie's marrying me, cause, I look like you? I mean, you have that hideous freckle over your eyebrow which destroys your facial features and I'm devastatingly handsome, but she loved you first."

"Angie always loved you first Fred. Oh god, I may as well just leave her, eh?" He pulled out his wand, and started pointing it at the ground, making the frost slowly disappear. "Angelina Johnson. She'll be Angelina Weasley soon. But she probably doesn't even see a difference in me and you." The grass his wand was aimed at was getting blacker, and becoming singed. "It's all your bloody fault Weasley!" He stood up and glared at the headstone. His brown eyes cleared, and the rage was replaced with a look of horror. The wand he had held out at the gravestone dropped. "Oh Merlin Fred, what's wrong with me. It's not your fault." He sank back down to the ground, hanging his head limply. "I'm sorry. It just..." George looked around, and let himself droop. "I think I'm going insane Fred," he whispered.

"George?"

He sat up, and looked to the right, making out a figure in the snow.

Hermione Granger stood at the gate, shaking snowflakes out of her hair and gazing over with glassy eyes to where George was standing.

"Back in a second, Freddie," he whispered.

Hermione held her arms across her body, shivering. "George, it's freezing out here!"

He smiled sarcastically and said "Is Ronniekins love not enough to keep you warm and toasty?" She shoved him and her cheeks went a rose pink, matching her icy nose. "Shut up Weasley."

"Touchy touchy!" he laughed at her scowl, and took her hand from her waist. "Merlin Hermione, you are cold."

"Well noticed, Sherlock." George looked confused, and Hermione smiled.

"He's a Muggle detective, in books. They're very good, I'll lend you my copy of "A study in scarlet" if you want?"

"Sounds hard." She rolled her eyes.

"You are just like Ronald."

"Oh no."

"Hey!"

George grinned, and glanced back at the headstone. Hermione looked beyond George, and her gaze stopped at the old tree that was glittering gently from the ice forming on its trunk. "It's beautiful out here in the snow." He smiled, and nodded. The tree shook itself, and hit the small sign that was a small distance away "Do not approach The Whomping Willow if you wish to keep all limbs intact."

"Hogwarts was a good place for Fred, he liked it in the gardens," said George. Hermione blinked a few times, her eyes slightly glassy.

"Did he?"

"Yeah. It was always quiet. Bit unusual, noise followed him." The left corner of Hermione's lips turned up a little and she sighed.

"Noise that followed you into the common room. Remember me telling you both that I was going to write a letter to your mother?" George let out a snort, and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. "You were a right goody-two-shoes."

"You were the opposite, always have been." She shivered again, and George rolled his eyes. He slowly took of the old jumper, and handed it to her. Although George was taller than Hermione, he was still short and well-built, unlike Ron. The jumper fitted her rather well. She poked her finger in the hole to the left of the yellow "F". "Thanks," she said softly. Hermione and George stood side-by-side, watching the snow fall on the gravestones covering them in a white glaze. He looked away from her, and she looked questioningly at him. "What?"

"Cold wind makes my eyes run."

"It's not windy George."

"Then the cold." She smiled sadly, and took his hand. Hermione looked up at George and the tears that were slowly making their tracks down his face. "Don't cry." She wrapped her arms around him and let George sob into her curly hair, his rib cage expanding and shuddering. "'Hermione... Why did he go?" She looked up at George, still holding him. He looked like a little lost child, unsure of what to do or what the world was doing. She held him close again.

"He wanted to go out with a bang. Remember your last year at Hogwarts? Flying off after getting cornered by Umbrige?"

"Yeah." He wiped a tear from the tip of his nose. "Then he just had to go out, Fred Weasley style. He wouldn't have been happy going peacefully in his sleep. It had to be drama." George grinned, and pulled Hermione into another hug.

"Typical Fred Weasley style," he whispered.

**Review please :)**


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